Concert Week

I love this time of year.

Not just because I have (in my part-time teaching schedule) only EIGHT DAYS LEFT of school.

Okay.  That might be part of it.

But I really love concert time. It's so exciting and so stressful.  So many details to plan, information to communicate...tasks to accomplish, loose ends to 'tie,' students to motivate and empower.  But the end result (especially when it exceeds your hopes and expectations) is simply magical.  Watching the excitement and focus and pride reflected in your students eyes... Meeting parents and grandparents and hearing wonderful stories about the impact of music and music education.  Feeling the adrenaline rush as the students look at you full of nervous excitement, bows poised, fingers placed...


...and then that rush of relief and exhaustion when it's all over.

Final rehearsals are happening this week, and so far, all is going well. Maybe too well, actually.  And strangely, I'm not that nervous or stressed?  Maybe I should worry about that.  I probably should.

Anyways, if you'd like to see nearly 75 second graders playing Mozart on the violin on one stage....
Or just under 50 third graders performing together on violins, violas and cellos...

...you will not want to miss this Thursday night (May 10) at the North Muskegon FLEX center.
6:00 PM Second Grade Violin Concert
7:00 PM Third Grade Strings Concert

And next week, the Fourth and Fifth Grade String Ensembles will perform some Blues, Beethoven, Irish Fiddle tunes, Dvorak melodies, music from Handel's "Royal Fireworks Music," and more.
Thursday, May 17 at 6:30 PM.

I love my job.

I could say a lot....

...About this man....about his unnatural generosity and humility.  His never-ending love and faithfulness.  About his very abnormal ability to choose love and righteousness over bitterness or cynicism.  About his love for learning and his flexibility.  Though I'm certain that he is human (and allegedly flawed like the rest of us)...the typical human traits of self-promotion and self-defense and self-importance are strangely absent.  He cares about being liked....I think I get that from him.  But rather than try to convince you about his worth and greatness or his many areas of wisdom and experience and expertise, he'd usually rather stoop down on all fours to be your footstool for changing a lightbulb...if that's what you needed...

His name means a great deal to many people.  I grew up knowing that.  My last name was big in a small town.  And I carried it happily, gratefully.  Because without fail, wherever I went, I got to hear stories of how my father had blessed and enriched someone's life with his teaching or his kindness or his care.  I got to hear about his wisdom and his integrity.

I believed them...and I felt proud.  But to me, he was not important because of his ministry or because of his small-town fame... he was important because he was the one who packed my lunches and drew stick-figure pictures on the brown paper bag.  He made me omelettes for breakfast and read Proverbs to us every morning.  He helped me with my horrible geometry homework and listened when I was frustrated or excited or nervous. He told me long, running stories about Charlie Chipmunk every night.  He loved my friends and invested in them too.  He still does.  I could always find him in his office reading or praying early in the morning. And I knew that often, he was praying for me.  Still does.  He fixed just about anything of mine that was broken, and now he fixes things for my children...even cheap dollar store things that should probably just be thrown away.  It's impossible to buy him anything, because he never talks about things he wants.  At family gatherings, when all the adults in the room are tired and just want to sit for some adult conversation, he's usually outside playing with the kids.

As an adult, I still get to hear those gushing stories about my dad often (though sometimes now, I get to reveal my relationship to him in my own time and on my own terms, since I'm disguised by new Corbin name).

He isn't a saintly hero to everyone.  But to me he's the closest human to ever deserve that title.

Happy Birthday Dad.  I love you.

barely intelligible utterances of excitement

I have a jittery feeling in my sides.  I sometimes feel like flopping my hands up and down and... and screeching.  Every feature of my face smiles.

One of the greatest joys of this trip is the preparation and the anticipation.  Realizing the magnitude of the gift, I want to be able to hold on to as much as possible, to be so intentional that I don't let one hour of it slip by.  My brain is bursting with fresh learning, French phrases and sounds, historical information, stories and art, architecture and Paris, practical information, museum schedules and exhibits, itinerary plans.  I sometimes feel that I'm hardly containing half of the "learning" I am consuming.  And so sometimes my brain just swirls with unintelligible feelings (not words or thoughts)  of pure anticipation and elation.

It hardly seems real.

Sometimes, in my head....when I should be thinking about something else, I'm saying "Ohmygoodness.Ohmygoodness.Ohmygoodness.I'mgoingto PARIS!   THIS. WEEK."

Most of the time I can function and focus and be more outwardly focused.  I can plan for other things, invest in others, listen, be in the moment.  The authenticity and graciousness of the people around me usually keep me grounded.  Some really sweet people that love me even ask me questions about my trip and listen and dream with me...and they are (either genuinely or convincingly) excited too.  Every once in a while, when I am able to be really present in the world around me and the people and the problems and the blessings and the daily stuff...I actually forget for a few minutes.  Then suddenly,  the thought of it just consumes me and I grin and I usually start shaking a little.

Ohmygoodness. I'm going to PARIS.  In a few DAYS!

I'm really sorry about how obnoxious I am.  It'll be over soon.

April in Paris

I'll be posting pictures soon.  Real pictures.  My own pictures.

I actually thought I'd blog more about my upcoming trip as I waited for the time to pass.  All that time just seems to be disappearing.

Instead, this uncanny March weather has kept me too energized and productive and warm and spontaneous (and outside) to turn to blogging. 

However, I have been dreaming and planning...   

...and researching and reading and wardrobe planning and itinerary writing...  

And by this time next week, I'll be sleeping in Paris. 

[French for beginners] 145 minutes to learn French grammar

Il n'est pas tres amusante ou tres interessant, mais il est tres bon. Je comprends et je parle un peu le francais!

Books I'm reading these days.

Sometimes, I'm not great at concentrating on one thing at a time.  This can be a problem.
It can also make for a great reading list.

If only I could finish one....

For the new year.

I recently read (somewhere? on the internet) that (someone's?) research says.....

...that people who keep their mouth shut about any 'health/ fitness/weight loss/excercise/better food choices' new years resolutions are more successful than those who blab about them all the time.

I really know how to cite my sources on quality research, right? I honestly don't even remember where I saw it, and I don't think I read more than 2 sentences beyond the article title. But I did think about it a bit more.

And I guess it makes sense to me. When someone declines food without explanation, they are usually left alone. And they usually benefit from encouraging feelings of new empowerment by their own quiet strength. But if they follow up their "no, thank-you" with words like, "I shouldn't" or "I would, except that I'm trying to...." They will be bombarded with "well-meaning" pushy words of "encouragement" about "special rules for special occasions" and "rewarding" one's self...and they will eventually be derailed by 'friends.' I've been on both sides of this conversation, of course. So have you.

So, I won't say anything here about my resolutions for food or excercise or much else, for that matter. :)

But I do have hopes and new resolutions for the fresh year and clean slate of 2012. I love re-starts, re-organization, new disciplines, new hope, and new beginnings.

I'll simply give you one of my long forgotten goals that has resurged in the past week...

Je voudrais apprendre le francais. Non. Je suis determine apprendre parler le francais...cette annee.

So I've been visiting the BBC's Ma France(a free online french course) and pulling out my old 'Conversational French Class' textbook and flash cards. As with many things, I'm now a little obsessed with this new pursuit.

And I have my reasons. But I'm not telling.

Our Little House

When Laura left home to take her first teaching assignment, she stayed with the Brewster family in a town 12 miles away. Every night of her stay was miserable, awkward, cold, and sometimes frightening. The Brewster family was very unhappy, their child neglected, their home a mess, and their words were always bitter and angry. Sometimes there was cold silence for evenings on end, broken only by loud arguments and hateful words screamed all night long.
Although Laura never told anyone about her miserable lodgings, Almanzo came to the little school every Friday to bring Laura home for the weekend. She realized, as she left one world and entered another, that her home was warm and safe because of the love and kindness that her family had for one another. There were no angry words, no selfish complaints, no sharp arguments. Everyone did a great deal of work to provide for one another. The chores were hard and never ending, but everyone helped each other willingly with love and gratitude.


I wonder how much, if any, of this story is fiction. It doesn't really matter. I still love the contrasting pictures of family life.

And I use the images of the two women, Mrs. Brewster and Ma Ingalls to remind myself of the kind of mother I want my girls to remember. The kind of home I want to build. The sort of memories I want my daughters to have of how they felt...when they were home.

I have to admit, I also use the story to teach my girls about the effects of their words too. When I hear them yelling, arguing, whining, I sometimes ask "What kind of words do we want to fill our home with?"

I'm just waiting for the day when they turn around and ask me that same question.

C.S. Lewis...in the role of "Uncle Screwtape"

Screwtape...on tape...in my car. Horrifying and funny. Makes the "real world" outside my car... seem very different. Far more poignant now than the first time I read it as a teenager.

"Aggravate that most useful human characteristic, the horror and neglect of the obvious. You must bring him to a condition in which he can practice self-examination for an hour without discovering any of those facts about himself which are perfectly clear to anyone who has ever lived in the same house with him or worked in the same office."

"Do what you will, there is going to be some benevolence, as well as some malice, in your patient's soul. The great thing is to direct the malice to his immediate neighbours whom he meets every day and to thrust his benevolence out to the remote circumference, to people he does not know. The malice thus become wholly real and the benevolence largely imaginary."

“The Enemy (God) wants him, in the end, to be so free from any bias in his own favour that he can rejoice in his own talents as frankly and gratefully as in his neighbour’s talents-or in a sunrise, an elephant, or a waterfall.”

“The characteristic of pains and pleasures is that they are unmistakably real, and therefore, as far as they go, give the man who feels them a touchstone of reality.”

Back to school.

The world seems to be suddenly spinning at a faster pace.
I think we'll settle into this new routine alright, but getting prepared is a little overwhelming at times, and I'm not quite as 'together' as I'd hoped at this point. Ahead of last year, definitely. Will I ever feel completely organized, prepared, and in control?

I just turned in my first paper of the semester. And I think my online class is going to be manageable. I had been pretending that this course would actually just disappear from my agenda this year, though I need it to have a professional teaching license. I've been dragging my feet about becoming a student again and ignoring the existence of this one last class. But one class, without driving to Lansing all week... this will be fine. And it will be over before Christmas.

Maya is heading to school this year too. Her backpack has been ready for weeks, and we're all pretty excited about Kindergarten. I'll post her first-day pictures soon!

This time of year always comes with a powerful mixture of feelings... nervous anticipation, panic, sadness in mourning the loss of summer, a bit of regret at the plans left undone, relief for the fresh start, excitement for new routine and hope for big possibilities for growth and accomplishment.

I took this picture back in June...

Ryan and I were on a date, leaning against the lighthouse, watching the sunset and the boats coming in the channel. The pier was crowded that night, and as this boat came closer, almost every eye followed it. And I couldn't resist taking a picture (or three). I never guessed that in just a few months, I'd be one of the lucky people enjoying a sunset cruise on that very boat. And I wouldn't have believed you even for a second if you'd suggested that I might be the one holding the wheel. If I hadn't been so nervous about hitting the pier or another boat....I'd have really enjoyed the view of the channel from a different angle.


I can't say I didn't enjoy it though...a thrill I won't forget for a long time. Which is probably good, since it probably won't be repeated for a long time either.

Another rough day at the beach...

...so rough, in fact, that we (2 semi-responsible moms) completely lost track of time. And just after promising ice-cream to four children (who, ran obediently out of the water at the word...'ice-cream')....we realized it was 5:00 PM! So four (or six) kiddie cones later, we hurried home for dinner.

The Beans were having stew (all-day cooking in the crock-pot) and we had one more new dish to prepare from another new favorite cooking blogger I found from a friend's facebook post.

It will be repeated soon in our house...

Creamy Chicken Marsala Pasta

adapted from a recipe at What’s Cookin Chicago
2 large boneless, skinless chicken breasts cut into bite sized pieces or strips
1- 10oz package of baby bella mushrooms, sliced
1 small onion, chopped
4 tablespoons olive oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
¾ cup Marsala wine
½ cup chicken broth
¼ cup half & half (or heavy cream)
1 pound pasta
1/2 cup grated Parmesan + more for serving
Salt & pepper to taste
Fresh basil, finely chopped

Season the chicken with salt & pepper. Cook the chicken in a large skillet with about 2 tablespoons of olive oil. Transfer to plate when done.

Boil the water and cook pasta until al dente.

While the water is boiling add another 2 tablespoons of olive oil to the pan then add the garlic, mushrooms and onions. Cook for 10 – 15 minutes. Put the cooked chicken back into the skillet. Add the Marsala, chicken broth and half & half. Bring to a boil then lower to a simmer. Cook until sauce has thickened. About 3 – 5 minutes.

Drain the pasta and reserve ½ cup of the cooking water. Add the pasta to the same skillet and add in ½ cup of Parmesan & the chopped basil. Cook until the pasta has absorbed some of the sauce (about 1 minute). Add in reserved cooking water if needed.

Season with salt, pepper and garnish with a sprinkling more of cheese.

Love...

...is enduring. It isn't fragile. It is....

...patient .
(PATIENT: "longsuffering, having a 'large soul'--BIG enough to absorb insult and injury like Jesus.")


Love is kind.
(gentle, tender, affectionate. It wishes well.)

It isn't envious,
or boastful,
or arrogant,

...or rude.
(Loving means to give myself up...not ever taking something from others rashly.
Love gives graciously...even when they don't deserve it.)

Love does not insist on its own way.
It is not irritable.
It is never resentful or bitter.
It never delights in wrongdoing.
It always rejoices in truth.

~These are words that cut me deeply. All at once, they produce sorrow and regret, inspire change and hopefulness and bring awareness of my continual need to be transformed.

Mostly, I fail on this love rubric in ridiculous moments of insignificance. Finding that I am just a little bit under appreciated and slightly used, I add a few things to my secret "list of ways others have wronged me and/or those I love." And then, when I am too small to bear this burden of (insignificant) injury, I speak or act out of resentment and my own increasingly irritable mood. I suppose I'm just acting out of boredom and selfishness, when I allow my mind to discover small injuries in which to plant resentment. Sometimes the injuries are bigger, and it's easier to justify my angry list making. In those circumstances, I probably plant my bitterness a little deeper and even nurture it happily, feeling SO right in my anger. I do this destructive planting, with full knowledge... that LOVE cannot be nourished in my life, cannot grow or bear any fruit...if my heart makes room for any of these things that it 'is not.'

This "Love is not _____ List" may be one of the most practical sets of words to meditate on.

But really, my favorite words come later.
The words that help me understand just a little bit better just how wide and how long and how high is the the love of Christ...

Love
PROTECTS...

Love...
...bears all things,
believes all things,
hopes all things,
endures all things.

Love never fails.

I just can't get over this beautiful picture of love
protecting,
sheltering,
building,
and holding up.

Hoping (instead of despairing).

Enduring... without end.

How ugly and small and foolish....seem all the selfish, delusions of "love" that I am so prone to run toward. How disgusting is my selfishness and pettiness, my doubt and worry... in light of this enormous and powerful picture of LOVE.

I think Paul was kind of ranting on the many ways that love (was then, and) is so often misrepresented and mistaken for cheaper versions of 'happiness' and shallow attraction to things and relationships that seem like they will satisfy. The word 'love' is even used to disguise and justify our most hurtful, self-gratifying, manipulative, destructive acts.

This misrepresentation of love, this epidemic blindness to, and distortion of love sometimes make me feel hopeless. When I look around and see too many broken things, I tend to put people and circumstances and problems into compartments in my mind that to me, are beyond the reach of love. They seem unsolvable and too ugly to be healed by love, so I try to harden my heart around them so that they don't hurt quite as much, and I am not surprised and disappointed by the destruction and loss. But no matter how I might harden my heart and forget what I know to be true....

LOVE still...

...bears all things,
believes all things,
hopes all things,
endures all things.

Love never fails.

...thoughts I needed to remember from this morning's teaching from I Corinthians 13.

I read this prayer on a friend's blog this morning. She is one of those ever earnest, completely genuine, beautiful people. A mother who loves her children fiercely. And a follower of Jesus that really means what she says.
She posted this prayer from a book. Though I haven't read the book or anything by the author, I was so drawn to these words. It is a prayer for her children. And I think, it is a prayer I will pray for my daughters, and for me, and for my husband, and for my family, and for my friends. The words are some of the most beautiful and wise truths from Scripture. Some of the great reminders of what is true and right and worthy and real.
My own prayers (which are simply too infrequent) are often so inarticulate, so full of my own desires and selfish wishes...these words guide me more closely, I think, to the kind of prayer that Jesus taught us to pray.
I changed the words "they" and "them" and replaced them with "her"...because I think I want to pray these things for each of my daughters.
(You can read the original prayer on her blog with the Scripture references and book title.)

Lord, You alone change hearts of stone, to hearts of flesh.

Place Your Spirit within …. (Maya, or Sophie, or...)

and cause her to walk in Your statutes

and to be careful to obey Your rules.

For You know the plans You have for her;

plans to prosper her and not to harm her,

to give her a future and a hope.

Let her fear You, Lord,

and thus have a foundation

for wisdom and a heart for instruction.

Let her receive wisdom

and incline her heart to understanding.

Help her not to lean on her own, limited understanding,

but in all her ways to acknowledge You

so that her path will be straight.

Protect her from walking in the counsel of the wicked

and standing in the way of sinners,

but lead her to delight in the law of the Lord

and meditate on it day and night.

May she walk by the Spirit

and not gratify the desires of the flesh.

Instead, may she be filled with

love, joy, peace, patience,

kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

May her minds and thoughts be fixed on

whatever is true, honorable, just, pure,

lovely, commendable,

anything worthy of praise.

May she not be conformed to this world,

but be transformed by the renewal of her mind.

May she discern the good,

acceptable and perfect will of God.

May her love be genuine.

May she abhor what is evil;

and hold fast to what is good.

May we love one another with brotherly affection,

outdoing one another in honor.

May she do nothing from rivalry or conceit,

but in humility count others more significant than herself.

May she lie down and sleep in peace;

for You alone, O Lord, make her to dwell in safety.

Bless her Lord, and keep her,

and make Your face shine upon her,

and be gracious to her.

Who is beyond your imagination.

"Bodily calm is part of our presence to people, and also to God. You may be on your knees, standing, sitting or prostrate. You try to stop the body moving. You focus on something physical: the breath flowing into you, or the sounds that invade your stillness, or the awareness of your enveloping skin. Then you give space to the Lord who created you, who is more central to your being than your own mind is, yet who is beyond your imagination.
I pause for a moment and think of the love and the grace that God showers on me: I am created in the image and likeness of God; I am God's dwelling-place.

I exist in a web of relationships - links to nature, people, God. I trace out these links, giving thanks for the life that flows through them.
Some links are twisted or broken: I may feel regret, anger, disappointment. I pray for the gift of acceptance and forgiveness."

~from Sacred Space this morning.

The End.

This afternoon, I will drive to MSU for my very last class.
My assignments are all done. I still have to email my last paper. But I'm done. I'm not sure I quite believe it, actually. But this is the end.

Tomorrow, when Ryan is done working, we'll leave for the cabin.

There are piles of clean laundry to be folded, and suitcases that need to be packed. The house needs some serious attention, but the mountain of dirty dishes is gone. The kitchen is actually quite functional now. I've been a little productive, but mostly the girls and I have been playing all morning. Maya figured out how to play most of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star on the piano today. She was trying last night..and this morning, she got it. Finding that first interval was really hard, she kept guessing and getting frustrated. I'm not sure how she memorized her starting note, or the distance between do and sol, but she's got it down now. It is so fun to watch her working at something with such focus..and then experiencing the delight of realizing her success. It's pretty magical to watch. We've listened to a short Youtube excerpt of Swan Lake again and again. She wants to figure that one out next. That, and Vivaldi's Spring. Sequential learning is just so tedious.



I'll get more laundry/cleaning/packing done tonight and tomorrow.

just like last year...

I am sitting here, typing a paper for school. Well, I should be. I just took a five minute break to make sure that this day does not go completely unnoticed, undocumented, or uncelebrated.
Ryan is in the other room, catching some election results, and trying to stay awake with me. I just got home from class a couple of hours ago.

Throughout the story-time bedtime routine... we've been chatting all evening, little snippets of funny conversations. We can't wait until we can really have conversations. Maybe even a real date.

It's our eighth anniversary today. We're feeling extra romantic and silly with love. And yet, here I sit, typing away on the computer...writing my very last assignment for my Master's degree...preparing to give my very final presentation tomorrow morning in my Research class. I should be a little stressed, since I'm not completely ready yet. But instead, I'm just happy. Calmly contented, knowing that in just two days, it will be officially complete. And in the morning, I may not have slept much, but I'll be ready for my presentation. And I'll have homemade blueberry muffins for my class. I can smell them baking right now.

Next year, we're going to have to celebrate big, to make up for our lame anniversary night dates of recent years. But I'm happier than ever to wake up beside this amazing man who supports and sustains me in more ways than I even know. Our love seems sweeter, richer these days. More fierce and exciting, and at the same time, steadier and more solid.

I am a very lucky girl.

Back to my research paper...

I know it's not what you expect here...

...but this is the best I can do right now...for a post.

This is what my mind is thinking about, at least on the back burner, 99.9% of the time. Yes, even when I'm sleeping...I dream about finding great research articles.

I'm kind of a nerd. But this is pretty exciting stuff. I'll probably let a lot of it go in about 3 and a half weeks. For now though, these are my thoughts...

The Formation of Musical Identity

Summer break is over...

...at least until August.

Tomorrow I begin my last summer of commuting to MSU for my Masters program.

I've got the ipod ready with an audio book from the library.

My stomach is feeling jittery, and my brain is panicking a little. I'm going to miss my girls this week. And I'm going to miss my Ryan too.

So here I am, typing when I should be sleeping or packing or reading for my class...but sometimes blogging just helps me clear the chaos and focus.

I must finish packing, so that sleep can follow soon.

suppressed excitement

Today I stood at my classroom door giving hugs and wishes for a great summer. I turned in my grades and organized my cart. I still have some work to do in the building before I am officially done for the summer, but today was my last day with students.

I am very aware of my 'in-between-ness' tonight. Almost...done with school for the year, almost on summer "break", almost ready to start my last summer of grad school.

I have big dreams for summer days at the pool, the beach, the library, gardening, reading, sewing, walks, ice cream, play dates, the zoo, the Fredrick Meijer Gardens, a whole week spent at the cabin. But the reality may not be as 'dreamy' as my aspirations (though I am determined to cram ALL of those things into our days somehow). In one week, I will begin the commute to MSU. First, for a 2-week workshop that meets all day every day. It will be wildly fun, incredibly challenging, inspiring...and exhausting. And as soon as that class ends, the next 6-week session begins: Research. Only one class this summer...and I think...I like research. I certainly like the fact that this will be my very last class for this degree. But my excitement to be done (soon!!) is quite restrained. There is much to do before I sigh with relief or celebrate.

This weekend however, will be filled with busy fun. A mass of graduation open houses, a wedding, a graduation, and somehow in the midst of the busy-ness...I am mostly excited about family time. Kelly, Sean, and Chloe arrived tonight from Massachusetts! And on Saturday, Andrew, Lynn, Jaelyn, and Addison are coming from Ohio for a quick visit too. ALL my siblings and nieces and nephews in the same town. Too good for words. I'm trying to suppress my expectations about how much time I will get to spend enjoying their company...but I'm really hoping for a quite a lot.